


worth it

by yurileclerc



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Dimitri taking care of Sylvain, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Sick Character, They're husbaaands, bc he loves his man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurileclerc/pseuds/yurileclerc
Summary: Whatever this scheme was, Dimitri was not going to cave. Unlike Felix, he was no lovesick fool. He knew when to say no. He could easily reject Sylvain’s requests if he so pleased. What kind of king would Dimitri be if he couldn’t deny his husband of his bratty wishes?Next thing Dimitri knew, he was entering their bedroom with a cup of tea, bowl of his favorite soup, and a vial of medicine—just as his husband had asked.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	worth it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloutier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloutier/gifts).



> HEY GUYS ITS MY FRIEND CLOUTS BIRTHDAY AND I LOVE HER SO HERES A SAPPY ASS FIC TO SHOW HOW MUCH I ADORE HER

"My beloved king! My heroic... _steed_! Ah, my love, won't you come relieve me of my ailment?"

Dimitri looks back at him with an unamused expression. "Sylvain, quit with the dramatics. It's only a common cold."

Sylvain pouts. From what it seems, it isn't the response he wanted _or_ expected. Dimitri's sure he's going to turn around and ignore him for the rest of the day as he does when he’s feeling like a brat, but surprisingly he doesn’t turn over. His bottom lip is jutting out now with creased eyebrows, though - and perhaps these are the puppy dog eyes Felix had described when his own lover tried to coax affections out of him. Whatever this scheme was, Dimitri was not going to cave. Unlike Felix, he was no lovesick fool. He knew when to say no. He could _easily_ reject Sylvain’s requests if he so pleased. What kind of king would Dimitri be if he couldn’t deny his husband of his bratty wishes?

Next thing Dimitri knew, he was entering their bedroom with a cup of tea, bowl of his favorite soup, and a vial of medicine—just as his husband had asked.

To be fair, he had asked very politely.

Sylvain’s back is turned to him when he returns. He’s shivering, curled into the blankets and coughing into his palm. He turns when the door creaks open, smiling as hard as he can in this state when he sees the tray. 

“Ah, thank you so much! What would I do without you?”

“Wallow in self pity, I’m sure.”

Sylvain pouts, turning to face the wall again. There's a silent message that Dimitri has made his husband “upset”, attempting to use his sulking as a weapon. He recalls a time ago when at the dinner table he’d jest to the professor how stubborn _he_ was. Looking back at it is funny to Dimitri now. Takes a stubborn man to know one, he supposed. 

“Sylvain Jose Gautier-Blaiddyd. You know you have to eat to feel better," he sits beside him, lightly nudging his shoulder, "Turn to face me so you can eat.”

Sylvain snores, and it’s _fake_ because Sylvain never snores. Not even during his ailment. Besides, he can see the smirk on his face. What a character. 

“Sylvain. Turn to face me.”

Another snore.

“Sylvain!” 

“And what if I don’t, beloved?” 

“No kisses _or_ cuddles for three moons. And I know how much you love those.”

Sylvain pauses, like he’s contemplating it. Eventually he turns, lying on his back. Dimitri smiles down at his husband. For a moment, he locks their fingers together— smiling down at the matching rings on their left hand. Sylvain would often insist on not being the married type, and yet here they were—8 years later acting like a couple of saps. Sylvain clears his throat, dragging Dimitri out of his lovesick daze and unclasps their hands in favor of caressing his cheek.

“Though I appreciate you staring at me like I’m the king and you aren’t, I’m sure my soup is getting cold. And you know how bad I am at magic.”

Dimitri laughs. “Are you not also a king?”

“The technicalities aren’t important.” Sylvain sits up, and before Dimitri can hand him the bowl, he says “Could you feed it to me tonight? I just, _goddess_ , I don’t think I have the strength to feed myself...but I’m sure my incredibly _strong_ and _handsome_ husband could help me out.”

A scoff. Was he really stooping so low as to shower him with empty compliments? 

(Say no, Dimitri. You can’t give yourself to your husband all the time!)

Dimitri scoops up a spoonful of broth, tipping his husband’s face up to feed him the contents. Sylvain swallows gratefully, and they repeat the actions over until there’s nothing left. Next is the tea and medicine, and Sylvain takes them both greatly. He assumes the medicine might be better, but with a lack of taste buds, he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell. He does know that Sylvain despises bitter things immensely. He must want to give poor Dimitri a break. 

When he’s finished, the tray is placed on the desk beside them. Sylvain’s coughing and sneezing had died down, but he’s still red in the face and shivering from time to time. It’s an awful look on him, he hates to see his lover’s suffering. He’s back under the covers, curling himself into the mess of blankets. Dimitri gets up to return the food to the kitchen, but Sylvain stops him with a weak hand to his forearm.

“Beloved, won’t you stay with me?”

Perhaps it was meant to come off as a joke, but he sounded so weak and pitiful in that moment. His poor, sick sweetheart. _Of course I’ll stay with you, beloved. Nothing will make me happier._

He forgets the tray, shucking his boots off and crawling under the blankets to accompany his husband. Immediately Sylvain latches onto him, arms curling around his neck and legs curling around his thighs. He presses his forehead against his neck, and Dimitri can feel the smile pressed to the expanse of his skin.

In turn, he pulls him closer. He loves cuddling like this and it is beyond him _why_ he had threatened to rid him of his nightly cuddle session.

Sylvain removes his head from the nape of Dimitri’s neck so his chin rests on his chest. He looks up at the ladder with a mischevious smile, hands moving up to thread through his hair.

“Remember when we were younger and I’d convinced you to court a lady?”

Dimitri blushes. “I do…”

Sylvain laughs at the memory. He’d return to him so distraught, begging to chase the lady away. He remembers the night they’d spent together, lips pressed together for hours for “kissing practice.” 

Their hands thread again, rings pressing against each other. “Well, my prince, maybe that wasn’t all bad...I got a damn good husband out of that shitty courting.”

Dimitri’s laughing now, holding his husband tight and kissing his overly warm forehead. Sylvain starts laughing too, mixed with coughs and slight winces caused by an assumed sore throat. When it dies down, Dimitri tips his lovers head up to kiss his lips. Sylvain grunts in protest, pulling away.

“Dimitri, you’re gonna get sick.” 

Dimitri pushes him onto his back, rubbing their noses together.

“If I am to get sick, it’ll be worth it.”

He kisses his cheek.

“ _You’re_ worth it.”

They spend hours locked in each other’s embrace, kissing until Sylvain passes out.

[ Two days pass. Dimitri and Sylvain lie awake, cuddled up to each other with matching headaches. Felix looks at the two with an unimpressed, deadpan expression. 

“You two are insufferable, sappy idiots.”

Dimitri and Sylvain look back with false offended expressions.

“Says you!” ]


End file.
